Up to this point, the hosen (German slashed trousers) worn by Gregor have been my most challenging project. I have no qualms about admitting that I went through several incarnations before finally getting it right (or, at least, good enough for daily wear without ripping). I’ve made him two good pair of hosen to date, which he essentially wore every day for two weeks at Pennsic. He even fought in the various heavy armor and rapier battles with them. The hosen survived this abuse well — the only issue was some ripping of two of his slashings near his upper thigh during rapier battles (easily repairable with needle and thread).

My failures: I first tried the hosen pattern from Reconstructing History. They were good enough to wear to an event once, but ripped that same day (thankfully he was wearing a Waffenrock and you couldn’t tell). The second pair of hosen was patterned by the talented Mistress Melisant, but I didn’t finish them right away and made a mistake when I cut the second leg out (ever so slightly off the bias) which caused a bit of twisting when worn. Also, this pair wasn’t large enough in the waist and the front edges didn’t meet by a long shot (protip: taking too long to finish a project can result in size changes). I could have re-cut this pair from more wool, yes, but I didn’t. I think I was frustrated and tired of buying so much wool. Totally my fault!

My successes: One of my judges at the Middle Kingdom Arts & Sciences Competition was Duchess Elina of Beckenham, who makes and wears many lovely German items. She’s also wife to Duke Stephen, who is usually seen sporting great-looking hosen. So I asked her: “How does His Grace make his hosen?” And she told me, very succinctly, that he takes a pair of old, tight-fitting jeans, cuts them from waist to ankle at the back of the leg, then uses this as pattern for his material. (While this exchange happened before I began my Artisan’s Quest, I am choosing to add Duchess Elina and Duke Stephen’s names to my quest list of Persons Whom I Admire anyway.

My instructions: So here’s how I made Gregor’s hosen. I made his extra sturdy, with the unterhosen and hosen permanently attached. (Unterhosen, or under hosen/base layer, is the material you see under the slashes.)

1. We went to our local thrift store and found an old, tight pair of classic jeans that fit Gregor for $5. Do not buy low-cut jeans — you want the waist to be pretty high. Your jeans should be very snug and “friendly” in the crotch.

2. I bought two yards of cotton duck canvas and two yards of wool in a contrasting color. (First pair was 2 yards of black canvas and 2 yards of dark red wool, second pair was 1 yard each of red and black canvas and 1 yard each of red and black wool.) I pre-washed all materials. The wool was fulled by washing with hot water and a little soap, then put in the dryer with some tennis balls.

Note: The canvas provides a strong foundation for your hosen, which I find especially important if the wearer tends to be very active. I do not think this is historically inaccurate, as things like fustian and linen canvas were available in 16th century Germany. While I do not know if the Germans did this with their hosen, I do have evidence that it was used on several pair of trunkhose (as seen in Janet Arnold’s Patterns of Fashion 3, pages 74-77 and 88-89).

3. Gregor put on the jeans and I drew a straight line up the back of his leg with some chalk. He took them off and I cut them first at the crotch (so I had two halfs) then I cut them up along the chalk mark I made. They looked like this:

Very Important Note: I learned the hard way that this particular pattern method can cause issues with the rise if you are not mindful. If your jeans are like the ones we used, it’s likely they will not lie completely flat after being cut along the back. Note that there are some wrinkles on the right side. You want to keep the crotch area flat and allow the side to wrinkle up (just smooth it flat). If you try to bring that right side up so there are no wrinkles, it causes the rise to become too narrow. On the second pair of hosen, I did this by accident and the hosen did not fit him right — they were too tight in the crotch and when he did a test-squat, we heard a faint ripping noise. We had to re-cut them! (And this is why writing things down is so important!) Here is an informative post about pant rise and how crucial it is (includes a graphic if you need to understand what rise is better.)

5. I cut the canvas out along the pattern, adding in 1/2″ for seam allowances on the sides and 1″ for an allowance at the top. The bottom was cut about 6″-7″ below the knee, which wasn’t all the way to the ankle of the jeans.

6. I used the canvas I cut out in step 5 as my pattern to cut out the wool along the bias.

7. I sewed the two canvas legs together first at the crotch, then along the back seams. I used a flat felled seam for strength and appearance (the same type seam used on jeans). Here’s how to do a flat felled seam.

8. Gregor tried them on and they fit great. While they were on him, I looked at how they fit on his thighs and took measurements for where I wanted the slashing to go. He chose to have it only on the front and sides of his thighs (this is period, as is having it go all around).

9. I layed out the unsewn wool material I cut out in step 6 and identified the spot where the bottom edge of Gregor’s knee would be. Using chalk and scissors, I made two-inch-high marks two inches apart all along the width of the leg, then measured down two inches and chalked the same marks again. I marked the other leg in the same way.

10.With the material still layed out, I chalked the markings for the thigh. I used a ruler to get straight lines the same distance apart.

11. Now simply cut along your chalk marks with scissors. Some people use a sharp knife, but it’s never worked that well for me. One thing that is very important is to avoid slashing parallel to the warp or weft grain — if you do, the wool may want to fray, even fulled wool. If you need inspiration for slashing, check out the many woodcuts!

Optional: I was worried about fraying, despite the fulled wool and avoiding the grain, and I put Fray Block on the edges of my cuts. Your choice.

12. I sewed the two wool legs together at the crotch just as I did with the canvas base layer, then sewed up along the back seams.

13. I put the two hosen together (wool on top of canvas), nice and snug. I folded the top edge of the canvas over twice, then the top edge of the wool over once to cover the canvas edge, pinned in place, and sewed. I did the same for the fly.

14. For the knees, you need to pull up on the wool layer about 1″ right at the knee so that the slashes curve out. Pin the wool between the two sets of slashes at the knee and sew down. Fold the edge of the wool under at the bottom, position on the canvas layer so the bottom set of slashes curves out like the top set, pin, and sew. (Note: You’ll either want to fold the canvas up and sew down or cut off the excess — you do not want the canvas to show at the bottom edge of your hosen.)

15. I made a codpiece for Gregor by cutting one one codpiece base and four codpiece tops in wool (modest style) based on the pattern linked above. The wool tops were contrasting colors. I sewed two black fronts together along the green dotted line, right sides together, to make bottom front. I slashed the two red front pieces like shown in the pattern, then sewed right sides together to make the top front. I plaed the bottom front over the top front, then placed both on top of the codpiece base. I sewed along the orange dotted line, leaving a 4” opening at the top. I turned inside out and stuffed it with old wool scraps, then handstitched the top closed. I put in three hand-sewn eyelets (lacing points) as shown in the pattern (small circles), then attached to the hosen with cord strung through these eyelets to matching the lacing points on the hosen.

Here’s the original, well-worn pair of hosen, still going strong:

Well worn hosen

To wear hosen, you would normally attach laces to each set of eyelets, step into the hosen, pull up, and tie the laces to matching points on your wams (doublet). Depending on your body, you may even be able to attach your hosen to your wams first, then step into your wams then into your hosen and pull everything up (like this)! Gregor has no appropriate wams (yet), so he runs a length of strong cord through all his lacing points and ties the cord like a belt to keep the hosen up and together, then wears his squire’s belt over that as well.

I am pleased to report that today I became the student of Mistress Crespine de la Vallée. This wonderful woman has been an informal adviser and guide for me since I met her as one of my judges at my very first Kingdom A&S Competition in May 2012. She is a talented needleworker (she also does blackwork!) and a seamstress of gorgeous 16th century clothing and accessories. She has much to teach me, and I am honored and inspired by her.

I asked Mistress Crespine for a Quest to challenge me in my pursuit of juicy arts and sciences goodness, and she willingly obliged. Here is my Quest:

1. Make a list of other artisans whose work you admire for any reason, be it aesthetically pleasing, an exceptionally fine technique, or historical authenticity. Include artisans of all levels, not just Laurels.

2. Work your way through the list. Find each artisan and introduce yourself, if you aren’t already acquainted. Ask them to show you or teach you what they do (even if its something you already do). Gain different perspectives. Include a few things that are outside your normal range but tie into your 16th century German persona or culture. Try to make a small project of what you learn from each one.

3. At the “end,” create something that incorporates all the things you learned from other artisans and display it with each part showing what you had to learn and from whom you learned it.

There is no deadline on this. But it might make a really great display for next years Known World A&S or the Kingdom Craftspersons Faire, whether its “complete” or still “in progress.”

I am very excited to begin this Quest, and I plan to keep track of it here. I foresee many fun projects in my future. Pulling it all together to create something that incorporates all the things I learned will be quite the challenge! My mind is already in a whirl.

Update: I now bring many of the items I’ve created in the above quests with me to events and enter them into the A&S Display, as a matter of course! I will have my next display of these items at the Pentamere Regional Craftpersons Faire at Grand Day of Tournaments on November 15.

I’ve made a full-size, full-leather leder wams for my man Gregor, who has now worn it many times to great success.

Now … I will show you how I did it so you can make one, too. It’s easier than it initially looks, and it wears fabulously!

First, a word about the material. You need real, good-quality leather; not pleather, not vinyl, not wool. Leder wams appear to only ever have been made from leather — cow or bull leather, to be specific. Look for an upholstery leather, about 3 oz. thick. Full or top grain quality. You want it soft enough to mold to the body, but thick enough to be durable. Also, if you get upholstery leather, be wary of super shiny finishes — if you cannot get a full grain finish, you’ll want to deglaze it with acetone. You could also wear the leather with the shiny/smooth side in; there’s is evidence to suggest soldiers did that. If your leather is too boardy and stiff, such as with a tooling leather, stick it in the dryer (air only; not heat) with a clean old shoe and/or some tennis balls to soften it up.

Where did we get our leather? Gregor’s dark brown leather is an upholstery leather which we luckily found at a our local surplus store (Scrap Box) — we think it was an auto upholstery remnant, but it was a large, full hide, aniline dyed with a wonderful grain and natural marks. Alexander’s red leather was obtained at Pennsic from The Real Leather People. Your real challenge comes in finding a piece to fit your pattern that is within your budget.

Step 2: Cut out your pattern from the muslin and try it on. Now’s the time to fix any mistakes in the pattern.

Cut out your muslin pattern.

Step 3: Layout your leather as flat as possible and position your muslin pattern over it, being careful to minimize waste while at the same time avoiding any serious flaws or holes in your leather.

Layout your leather and muslin pattern.

4. Using a rule and a knife (or chalk), make a guideline along the straight front edge, as shown in the photo below. While you’ve got the knife and chalk out, trace the circle for your neck. I used something round (measuring cup) to get a round, smooth line.

Use a straightedge to make a guideline for your front.

5. Cut your line and circle out using a knife or scissors. If you use scissors, don’t use your best fabric scissors as it’ll just dull them. I used an older pair of craft scissors and it worked fine. Keep in mind your cuts will be seen, so be straight and true.

Cut your neckline and front edge.

6. Line your pattern back up onto your leather and trace around the edges with chalk, and cut. (The only place you need a seam allowance is on the sides (1/2″), if you didn’t already build that into your pattern when you draped it.) If you are at all nervous about making a mistake, there’s nothing wrong with being a bit generous in your cuts and later cutting more. Feel free to take it off your cutting surface and try it on several times during the cutting process. I will admit to doing this, though it turns out I really didn’t need to. The pattern I’d made was good.

Mid-cut, going a little slow as you can see.

7. Drape the leather over yourself and cross over the front sections. Make sure the sides meet (and aren’t too loose). Make sure you can move your arms freely. Correct any issues now. I ended up making deeper cuts in the sleeve for better arm movement. At this point you should also mark where the two sides meet.

Try on your leather!

9. Now it’s time to sew your leather. The wams needs only two seams, one on either side of the torso, and it’s best to do it by hand. Using a leather punch, a 1/6″ awl, and a ruler, make punches about 1/2″ away from the edge and about 1/4″ apart. You will make four sets of these holes, two along each side on either side of your leather where you marked it in the previous step. (Note: Do not let this step scare you if this is your first time working with leather. This was my first leather project. Punching these holes was simple with patience and care.)

Holes punched for the seam.

10. Using sinew, sew your seams, right sides together. (Note I first used a thick linen thread, but it proved to be too weak, so use sinew instead!) A long, strong needle is best. You’ll want to do a saddle stitch here, which really just means you’ll do a running stitch through the holes from either side, creating a double running stitch with thread passing through the hole twice. For more information on sewing leather, check here: http://www.backroomleather.com/sewingleathertutorial.html . Do not overtighten your stitches, or the seams will pucker.

Sewing the seams with a saddle stitch.

The completed seam.

11. To keep your leder wams closed, you’ll want two ties. One goes on one side of your front (and ties to the opposite side) and the other goes on the other side of your front (and ties on its opposite side). It’s a bit like a bathrobe, except both sides crossover and tie. The ties should be placed at the bottom corners. To make your ties, cut a 1/4″ x 48″ strip of leather from your leather hide, then cut into four equal parts. Or just use leather thongs, if you have them. Using your awl, make a punch in each of your two front corners and a punch in each of your two front sides. Here’s a diagram showing the locations of where you want to put your punches for the ties:

Put a hole in each of these four spots.

12. Now thread a leather tie through each of the four holes, knotting it securely on the inside. Put on your leder wams, tie one side, then tie the other, and make sure the fit is good and snug, but not too tight. You can optionally put in another set of ties if you plan to wear this over any armor.

13. Now comes the fun part: decorative cuts and slashes! I based on my cuts on the most common leder wams I’ve seen in woodcuts, meaning I put two scalloped pinwheel shapes with slashes in the front and back, plus scalloped the sleeves and slashed them. You could do more or less than this. I’ve seen leder wams with slashes all over, if that’s what you want! You will not need to treat the edges of the leather — it will not fray or anything. To do the scalloped shape, I measured the front and back flaps, cut out a piece of paper to size, folded it 4 times, and curved the bottom — when it was opened, it looked like a flower. I then just positioned it on a flap, marked the leather with chalk, and cut.

A pattern to scallop the edges

Cutting leather is fun!

And that’s it! You have a leder wams! If it gets wrinkled, just hang it for a bit and the leather will smooth itself out.

Here are photos of the completed leder wams on Gregor:

Leder wams without a belt. It’s a bit wrinkly here as was newly made.

Leder wams with a belt.

Leder wams being worn for combat (rapier).

If you have any questions or feedback at all, please reply here to message me directly. I’m also happy to take additional photos and close-ups if it helps you make your own.

When you’re preparing your linen for a project that requires absolute straightness, such as embroidery or pleatwork (smocking), you want to cut your linen straight along the grain of the fabric. If you don’t get it straight, it can pull oddly on your frame, fray annoyingly as you work with it, and create uneven hems. You could put on magnifying glasses and try, very carefully, to cut between the weft (or warp) threads, but it’ll drive you nuts. So here’s what I do to get my linen “squared” up evenly along the grain of the fabric.

1. Identify the spot you’d like to cut your fabric and make a small cut at the edge of your fabric. In the photo below, I am cutting into the selvedge and the warp threads (the threads parallel to the selvedge).

Step 1: Make a small cut at the edge of your fabric.

2. Locate the thread of linen at that point and gently pull it. The fabric will begin to gather along that thread. (In my example, I am pulling on a weft thread.)

Step 2: Gently pull the thread at the cut.

3. Work the gathers down the fabric. The more it gathers, the farther out you can pull the thread.

Step 3: Work the gathers down the fabric and pull out the thread further.

4. Continue until you’ve completely pulled out the thread from the fabric. Note: If you are working to the selvedge of your fabric, you’ll need to make a small cut on the opposite side of your fabric before your thread will completely pull out. Once the thread is pulled out, a gap will form in the fabric’s weave, making a visible line along the fabric.

Step 4: Pull out your thread, leaving behind a clear mark.

5. Now just cut along the gap made by the thread you removed!

Step 5: Cut along the gap.

Tips: If your thread breaks when pulling it out, simply skip to step 5 and cut along the mark your pulled thread has made until you find the end of the broken thread, then pick it up and start pulling again.

We’ve returned from our two-week adventure at Pennsic 42! One of this year’s highlights were the five classes we taught between the three of us (me, my lord Gregor, and my son Alexander). All were very well attended and very satisfying to teach. I estimate we taught a total of 125-150 people among the classes. Here are notes on what we taught, in the order we taught them:

Mind the Beeswax: Wax Carving for All Ages (Thursday, July 25 at noon)

Class Description: Come learn the time honored techniques of beeswax carving. Then try it yourself with simple

This was my son’s very first teaching experience and I’m happy to report it was a success! We’d brought small blocks of wax and carving tools, and everyone who had wax walked away with some sort of small sculpture. Alexander was the teacher, I was the assistant, and we had about 25 students (mostly children, but also adults). If we teach this class again, we need to bring more tools for carving so students can experiment with different types. We had a simple handout for this class: beeswaxcarving (PDF, 164k)

Students in Alexander’s Beeswax Carving Class

Blackwork Embroidery: Make and Take Needlebook (Friday, July 26 at 11:00 am)

Class Description: Learn basic blackwork embroidery stitches while creating a needlebook. Bring scissors. Handout limit: 20. Materials limit: 15, fee: $5.00.
I’ve taught this class now 5-6 times and it goes pretty smoothly at this point. Last year I had materials for 12 and I upped it to 15 this year (and added a second blackwork class) and I still didn’t have enough! Interestingly, I had students from last year’s class attend this one because they enjoyed the first class. For those who missed the class and/or need another copy of the handout, you’ll find it here: Blackwork-Embroidery-Needlebook (PDF, 5.7 MB)

German Tellerbarret Hats: Make and Take (Saturday, July 27 at 3:00 pm)Class Description: Learn how to make the striking German Tellerbarret (“platter hat”) popular during the 16th century. Handout limit: 20. Materials limit: 5, fee: $10.00.
This was the first time teaching this class and I wasn’t sure who, if anyone, would be interested. Thus, I only purchased/prepared materials for five people; I also felt this was the sort of class that would benefit from a smaller class size. Upon arriving at my classroom, I found 20 people lined up for the class. Wow. In the end, I gave out all 20 of my handouts, plus about 8 extra that a helpful student went and had copied at Mystic Mail (thank you, Thea!). And, as it turns out, 3-4 of the observers had brought their own wool, so I let them use my extra wire to make a hat with us. The class turned out well, and everyone left with a hat that was finished or nearly finished. Next time I think I will allow a bit more time (an extra 30 minutes should do it), bring more materials and handouts, and request one of the bigger classrooms (we were pretty cramped). I promised to teach this class again next Pennsic, and I have plans for a photo tutorial and maybe even a little video. In the meantime, here’s the handout for this class: Tellerbarret-Instructions (PDF, 868k)

Making hats!

Thea’s great hat!

Reich & Pike: Military History of Landsknechte

Class Description: Learn why the formidable and flamboyant Landsknechte of the 15th and 16th centuries become so rightly feared across Europe.
This was Gregor’s first-ever SCA class. There were no handouts, but he did have props — his wagon, weapon, a map of the Holy Roman Empire, and me (dressed as a trossfrau). He had about 25 students and he talked for an hour, answering questions as they came up. I learned several new things just listening to him! You can get a copy of the map by GermancartographerMartin Waldseemüller by clicking the image below (beware — it is 13 MB):

Blackwork Embroidery: Make and Take Pincushion (Wednesday, July 31 at noon)

Class Description: Learn basic blackwork embroidery stitches while creating a pincushion. Bring scissors. Handout limit: 20. Materials limit: 15, fee: $5.00.
This was the first time I’d taught this pattern, but otherwise the class was similar to my needlebook class. I didn’t feel I did as well teaching this class as the others; by this point in the War I was pretty tired, and I hadn’t mentally prepared for teaching properly as I was focused on the class earlier in the day. Still, the class went okay. Several students from the previous week’s blackwork class attended this one, and showed me their completed needlebooks. I love seeing my students finish their projects, and I give them gifts when they do. For the blackwork classes this year, I was giving out brass dress/hat needles made in the period fashion. Here’s the handout for this class: Blackwork-Embroidery-Pincushion (PDF, 5 MB)

The pegboard I use to display blackwork stitches during my classes

We’re all looking forward to next Pennsic so we can teach more classes about German Renaissance history and garb. And if you took one of our classes, please get in touch with us — we’d love to hear from you with feedback and/or questions. You can reply to this post or e-mail me directly at genoveva (dot) von (dot) lubeck [at] gmail (dot) com. I am always

This weekend I had the pleasure of attending the Middle Kingdom Arts & Sciences Competition, in which I was both an entrant (for my goldhaube) and a judge. This was my first experience judging and it was most illuminating. The first entry I judged was a Landsknect man’s outfit by THL Errc Glaison (read his blog here). The outfit was composed of a tellerbarret, haube, wams, hosen, and hemd. The hosen were short, very short … as in, they were what we would mundanely call shorts here in the U.S. Here is a photo of Errc’s Landsknecht outfit:

I’ve heard a number of people question whether or not a Landsknecht man would parade about with his legs bare. It seems shocking to some. Didn’t people “back in the day” have issues — religious, social, or moral — in showing their skin in such a manner? Sure, there are images of men wearing something that looks like this, but how do we know this was bare skin and not just very tight hosen? For example, here are some images of Landsknecht men clearly wearing short hosen:

Some of those images show what looks like hair on the bare thigh, but one could question if that is the coarse hair of woolen hosen rather than skin. How can we be sure they would really have had bare legs? Take a look at this detail from Michal Feselen’s History of Cloelia (1529):

Detail from Melchior Feselen’s “Cloelia Before Porsenna” – 1529

Not only can one very clearly see hair on his flesh-colored legs, but there’s a distinctive pattern to the hair growth typical of, well, a man’s hairy legs!

I rest my case.

In all seriousness, I made this post so I would not forget and so that others, who may be wondering one day, have an answer to this burning question. I think it was more typical for unterhosen to be worn under the hosen, rather than not, but clearly it was acceptable on some level for a proud Lansknecht man to go about in public with bare legs.

Tabards (wappenrock) are popular for SCA fighters because they’ll cover up less-than-period armor and just generally make one look good without a lot of effort. And while my fighter (Gregor) has plenty of good things to wear, he tends to go back again and again to the tabard for comfort and ease.

There’s just one problem — tabards aren’t something German Renaissance soldiers wore to battle. They wore wams (doublet), lederwams (leather vest), hosen, and waffenrock (arming dress). Wams and lederwams are too short for what we need here — we want to cover the upper legs, too. Gregor has a waffenrock, but his is very fitted and takes much too long to get in and out of on his own, which he has to do frequently. It’s also very heavy and hot. And it doesn’t adjust well to different shapes and layers of armor underneath it.

So together we came up with an idea of a simpler, sleeveless waffenrock that functions like a tabard. We’re calling it the Waffenrocket (no, not a real word!) — because it’s like a Waffenrock but faster to make and faster to get on and off. This design is not period, as far as we can tell, but it looks good and behaves like a tabard in that you can just toss it over whatever you’re wearing.

Note: It’s important to note that historic tabards were also a way of displaying one’s heraldic device or association with another individual or group. But I think that putting a heraldic device on the Waffenrocket would be going too far as the 16th c. German men never did that based on my research. Instead, I simply chose meaningful colors for the Waffenrocket. You can display your heraldry in other ways (shield, banners, flags, etc.)

So I thought I’d pass on how to make one to other fighters out there in need of a good, German tabard-like garment. Here’s how we made it:

Materials:

2 yards of muslin or other non-stretchy material you don’t mind marking up

5 yards of linen or wool (we’re using linen because this is for the summer), at least 56″ wide

2 yards of linen or wool (wool will look better)

matching thread

3 yards of cording

Instructions:

1. Take a 2 yard-long piece of muslin or other light-colored, non-stretch fabric, fold it in half crosswise. Cut a hole in the center for your head and put it on while wearing whatever you’d want to wear underneath (i.e., hemd, padding, armor, etc.). You should look like you’re wearing a poncho!

2. Using images of period waffenrock as a reference, draw right on the muslin where you want your neckline, cross guard, inside guard, outside guard, and waist to go. Important: To get the right look of the waffenrock, your waist should be around your natural waist and your guards should angle in as they go down. German men liked the small waist look (athleticism was highly prized at this time in history) and this V shape makes the waist look trimmer and gives the “right look.”

3. Take the muslin off your head, fold in half crosswise at the neckline and trim the sides where you drew the outer edge of the outer guard. Also trim the neckline where you indicated the inner edge of the center guards and the upper edge of the cross guard would go. I made Gregor’s Waffenrocket identical front to back, so it could be put on without worrying which way was right.

Our muslin trimmed at the neckline and sides. Note the shape!

4. Now, still using your muslin, sew straight lines at slight angles, sloping down from the neck to the shoulder. In other words, place a mark at the top of neckline and another mark about 1″ down at the shoulder, then sew a straight line between them. Repeat for the other side. These simple shoulder seams will minimize puckering when you wear it.

You can see the angle of the shoulder seam here.

5. The last step for your muslin is to cut it about 1″ below where you indicated the waist should be. This muslin is now your pattern for the upper section of your Waffenrocket!

6. Take your pre-washed and ironed material (we used linen for the main material) and fold it in half crosswise. Using your muslin pattern, cut out your linen and sew the shoulder seams. Set aside.

Slashing on the outer guard

7. Cut out guards for the top of your Waffenrocket. I found that 8″ strips for the outer guards and center guards, and 4″ strips for the inner guards worked well. If you want to do anything fancy with your guards, like slashing, do it now. Note that for best results, slashes should be cut on the bias of the fabric — this minimizes fraying.

8. Attach the center guard by covering the raw edge of the main fabric and folding over the raw edges of the guard, pin in place, and sew down. Do the same with the outer guard — cover the raw edge of the fabric with the guard, folding over the guard edges, pin, and sew. Repeat for the inner guard, which should overlap the raw edges of the center guard. When you’re done with this, the only raw edges left will be the ones at the bottom!

9. Put on all the armor and clothing you might want to wear at one time then put your the top you completed in step 8 on over it. Admire how great you look! Now measure your natural waist with everything on. Make a note of this measurement.

10. With the remaining three yards of your main fabric, cut it in half lengthwise so you have two long strips that are three yards each. These will form the skirt of your Waffenrocket.

12. Once pleated, sew the rolled pleats down for stability near the edge of the fabric before removing pins.

13. Join the seams of the skirts together (use a french seam or flat-felled seam) to create one big skirt where the waist is at least as big as your measurement in step 9. (Note: If you are making this without adding bulk underneath, you’ll need to add some inches to your measurement or you may find it hard to get on over your head.

14. Cut out guards for the bottom of your skirt with the remaining fabric. You can be creative here — have one or two guards, slash them, whatever. You’ll probably want at least one guard. Save a strip at least 4″ high by the length of the measurement from step 9 (+2 inches) for your waistband.

Completed Waffenrocket with ties at the sides.

15. Cut the waistband strip you saved in half and cut your cording in half. Sew down the raw 4″ ends of the two strips. Now fold the strips over, lay the cords inside them, and pin them over the raw edges of the skirt, folding the edge of the strip over as you do so. Now sew the strips to the skirts, taking care not to sew into the cording. When done, you will have a black waistband at the top of your skirt with two openings and four cords on either side.

16. Now simply attach the black waistband of the skirt to the raw edges on the upper section you completed in step 8, again taking care not to sew into the cording (you want that to remain free moving). Note that the sides are open.

17. Put the garment on over your head and tie the cords at either side. Voila! You have a Waffenrocket. If you want to wear it with less on underneath, cinch the cords a bit tighter at the sides. You’ll want to wear a belt with this like all good Germans did, so you can arrange and smooth the front as necessary to achieve the right look.

Tips: Gregor’s skirt turned out to be attached too low after his first wearing, I think because the linen loosened up a bit after wearing in the rain. So you may want to pin and baste, then hang for a while, before attaching permanently.

After months of research, I’ve successfully managed to create a lovely “goldhaube” (golden cap) that looks like the caps seen in the many Lucas Cranach paintings of 16th century Germany. During my research and trials I had many people contact me to ask about it, and I’m happy to share what I have learned. In addition to the pattern, instructions, and notes below, I have documentation on the goldhaube — I entered it into my regional Arts & Sciences Competition where it received a first place award. [Update: It also won a first place award at the Kingdom level.]

Goldhaube Pattern

Below is the pattern I used to create my goldhaube. Many thanks to Katrine De Saint Brieuc, Crespine de la Vallée, and Anthoinette de Martel for helping me figure this out. It took several tries to get the shape right and this is the end pattern result. Keep in mind that this cap is intended to be worn with zopfe (false braids) or at least padding to fill the cap and have it puff out at the sides.

Sizing Notes: Measure the circumference of your head and adjust the back band and straight edge of the hood as necessary (these two are currently 21″ — my own head circumference). If you want less bulk and poof, reduce the length of the hood from 9.5″ to 9″ or even 8″.

Seam Allowance: Add 1/2″ for a seam allowance to the above pattern pieces.

Goldhaube Materials

It is my belief that cloth goldhaubes would have been made out of cloth of gold (cloth with real gold-wrapped weft threads) and that is nearly impossible to find these days. So here’s what I recommend using instead:

Goldhaube Embellishment

First thing you’ll want to do is get the pearls and goldwork stitched onto your taffeta. Here’s how you do it in 20 steps:

1. Follow my directions for dressing a slate frame with your linen and taffeta. Important: Put your taffeta on the frame so that the gold threads are along the parallel to the longest side of your frame.

3. Lay the pattern piece on the bottom edge of your taffeta and copy the pattern onto your taffeta by handstitching the patterns’ outlines right onto the fabrics with white thread in a large stitch so it’s easy to remove later when you are done. Also using thread, create the diamond grid over your taffeta, sewing each thread down at the edge of the hood to use as a guide for later.

Guide threads sewn to the fabric — these will be removed later.

4.Now using a non-flexible beading needle (strong and sharp enough to pierce your fabric but thin enough to go through the hole in your pearls), begin sewing pearls in straight lines to one side of your thread guides. Work in parallel lines across your fabric and strive for consistency in placement. My pearls were sewn on five to a segment, with the fifth pearl forming the important center pearl where two thread guides met. If you are unfamiliar with how to sew pearls, check here and follow either the backstitch or couching directions (NOT machine couching). Be sure to wax and anchor your thread, and knot your thread regularly between stitches (at least every five stitches) to avoid catastrophic breakage and pearl loss.

Pearls attached in parallel lines on fabric

Tip: If you decide to couch your pearls, be sure to use thread that matches your fabric to minimize the appearance of it between stitches (I did not, but wish I had).

5. Once all the parallel lines of pearls are secured down, go back along and fill in the lines going in the other direction. Be careful to line them up with the center pearls so your lines are as straight as possible.

Sewing the pearls down along the other lines.

Note: I estimate that attaching the pearls took me about 20 hours, just so you’re prepared.

Tip: I chose not to attach pearls all the way to the sides, as you can see from this photo. I was concerned about pearls that close to the bottom of the hat would constantly get tangled in my hair. I was also a bit worried about the pearls dragging down the fabric at the bottom of the hat. It’s your choice.

6. Now it’s time to turn your attention to the two head bands. I did not bother to stitch around my pattern pieces for these. Instead, I simply started by couching down a straight line of gold passing thread. I then added another, parallel to it, exactly one inch away. I repeated this for the other head band, making sure to leave plenty of space between the two bands.

Couching the gold passing thread in parallel lines one inch from one another

7. Once you’ve got your gold passing thread couched down, apply your pearls just inside the gold lines. I recommend the couching method of attaching the pearls for the head bands.

Attach pearls inside the gold lines

8. Now you can add more goldwork by created designs in between the rows of pearls with your gold passing thread. I chose to put in hearts (part of my heraldic device), but you can pick something else or leave it blank. Check the Lucas Cranach Digital Archive for inspiration!

Goldhaube Construction

9. Now that your pearls and goldwork are applied, carefully remove the fabric from the slate frame (I simply cut the threads and then cut off the sides) and cut out your pattern pieces. The hood is easy — just cut outside your thread guidelines. The bands are also easy — cut 1″ from the edge of the outer pearl/gold lines for each band. You’ll also need to put a piece of taffeta and linen for the crown section (see pattern), which has no pearls or goldwork on it.

Note: From this point forward, I will refer to the linen that backs the taffeta as the “interlining” to avoid confusion.

10. Sew the crown taffeta and linen together (see photo), leaving a small portion unsewn so you can turn it inside out. Turn inside out, press flat, and stitch the open section closed. Treat this now as a single piece of fabric.

Sew the crown

11. Cut out a new piece of linen using your hood pattern. Now sew the hood taffeta/interlining combination together with the new linen just inside the thread guides in the same fashion as the step above, this time leaving the straight edge unsewn except for about 6-7″ on either side. Turn inside out and carefully press edges. Leave the open side open for now.

Sew the hood’s taffeta to the linen following the thread guides.

12. Place the crown and straight side of the hood right sides together, then sew together with small stitches. As you did not sew the hood closed here, you’ll want to sew the crown only to the taffeta/interlining in the places where they are not attached to the new linen. Yes, this means your new linen will still be unattached along this edge.

13. Check all your pearls for any issues and fix before you stitch down the lining. It’s easier to do now than later.

15. Cut out two 3″ inch strips of linen long enough to match your bands. Sew each linen strip onto one edge of your bands, fold over, tuck a braid in from step 14, fold the raw edges in, and stitch down — this gives you a new linen lining to each band, complete with a braid inside it for securing to your head. Try the back band on now to make sure it fit across the top (crown) of your head and just barely meets (or doesn’t quite meet) at the base of your head — if it’s too long, shorten now.

(I apologize for the lack of photos from this point.)

16. Now sew the front band to the crown (the band should just overlap the crown, with the band on top).

17. Sew the back band over the section between the crown and the hood, lining up the edge of the band so it just means the point where the pearls begin.

18. Decide how you would like to gather the bottom of your hood. I chose to sew a casement in the bottom of the hood’s fabric, but another option is to add a length of bias tape or even loops of braid or narrow bias tape to the edge of the fabric. If you decide to sew a casement as I did, first poke two holes at either end of the curved section of your hood using an awl, finish the hole edges with a buttonhole stitch to create eyelets, insert your remaining braid into the holes and tuck into the edge of the fabric, then sew a straight line well above the braid (just under the lower edge of pearls) to create the casement. Now pull the braid tight and tie it to gather up the edge of the hood.

Green circle is placement of eyelets (holes), yellow dotted line is the sewing line for the casement.

19. Stitch the loose lining of the hood to the lining of the crown. There’s no need for these stitches to be super small, as you may want to open this lining up at this point to make adjustments or repairs later on.

Goldhaube Notes

A. If done correctly, you should not need any pins to keep this cap on your head. I have super slippery, fine hair, but my cap still stayed on. It only fell off when I leaned backward, then the weight of the cap pulled it off. If you find you want pins anyway, I recommend sewing small loops to the lining under the front band, then insert the pin into those loops.

B. You do not need to attach pearls—you can use couch gold passing thread instead or embroider gold in a stem stitch. You can also attach the pearls in straight, parallel lines (without the lattice pattern). Check the paintings for ideas.

C. You can wear just the cap, or put a barrett (small or large) or coronet/crown on top.

D. In order to achieve the right look, with the cap bulging on either side of your head, you should have braids or padding here — I don’t think it’ll look right without something to make the cap bulge out. If you want, you can create a special undercap with padding built in, or sew linen-encased-padding (I recommend wool roving) right into the cap (you can see padding like this in the extant flinderhaube which has a similar shape).

Please let me know if you need more detail on any step, or if you have ideas on how to improve this post or the entire goldhaube. I am always open to feedback!

Wearing the goldhaube — note the close fit to the top of the head and how it extends out on the sides.

Wearing the goldhaube under my tellerbarret, as was common in paintings.

View of the back of the goldhaube — note the shape!

January 2015 Update:

I had a request for more photos of the goldhaube, so here are five new photos of the cap sitting flat on a table (outside and in). The goldhaube is nearly two years old now and has been worn many times and in many types of weather (including hot Pennsic weather). It’s holding up pretty well, I think. If I were to re-make this again, I would change two things. First, I would attach the pearls using the method I’ve detailed elsewhere in my blog, as I think it’s much neater and stronger, and I don’t really care if it doesn’t have the same spacing as my inspiration image. Second, I would flatline the cap as I think that would make the drawstring at the back cinch in tighter, though it’s not a really big deal and doesn’t bother me greatly, in all honesty. I hope these detailed photos help those who are trying to make the cap!

November 2015 Update

I’ve been wearing my goldhaube more frequently now that I have a fancy coronet (made by Master Lothair). I thought I’d share two more tips that I’ve discovered:

1. Because I found I could put the goldhaube on and off without undoing the ties at the nape, I decided to sew up the sides so it became closed at the nape. Once I did that, I found the goldhaube became even more stable than it had been.

2. The more padding you can get in the back of the goldhaube, the better it stays on your head. I have my goldhaube stuffed with wool roving now and it stays on my head, even when leaning backward, without any pins. I can wear it for 12 hours without any adjustment or slippage.

It’s important to have the right tool for the job, and this is especially true when it comes to the fiber arts. Back in 16th century Germany (and many other European countries and periods prior to this century), Der Seidensticker (embroiderers) used what we call “slate frames” to keep their fabric taut and tensioned while stitching. A slate frame is really just a frame (a square or rectangle) made of slats. And rather than clamp or pinch your fabric between bars as with other embroidery frames or hoops, a slate frame is intended for you to sew your fabric right to the frame, providing the absolute best tension control.

My current project calls for embroidery and pearl couching on silk, so I’m using a slate frame to get this setup. Here’s what I did:

1. Measured the space I needed for my project. Sadly, it was too large for my 20″ slate frame, so I made new 33″ stretcher bars from some red oak boards at my local home improvement store — if you go this route, make sure you bevel all edges.

2. Pre-washed, dried and ironed my 100% linen (medium-heavy weight), then cut it to size (2″ wider and taller than the inside of my slate frame). Fold over all edges of your linen by one inch and press. Be careful to follow the grain when both cutting and folding — grain is very important in embroidery.

3. Sewed first one edge of my linen to the canvas edge of one roller bar (it’s the bar that usually has canvas attached to it), then the opposite edge to the other roller bar. I used buttonhole thread, which is very strong. Traditionally, the backing material (the linen) is attached with a herringbone stitch. I did this herringbone stitch and decided my stitches weren’t uniform enough, so I did attached the other side to the other roller bar using my sewing machine’s herringbone stitch. Both are fine for this step, but the handstitching is more authentic and versatile. The beauty of herringbone stitch is that it is elastic! The degree of stretch that you can get depends on how closely you make the stitches. This becomes more evident later.

4. Now I turned my fabric and roller bars over so that the seams were underneath. Then I slid my stretcher bars through the holes in my roller bars and put my pegs/pins in holes so that my fabric was reasonably taut but not tight. The pegs/pins are put into the inside of the frame, in case that’s not obvious. Also, I prefer to put them from the bottom up so that when the frame rests on a table, they aren’t as likely to pop out.

5. Using a ruler and an awl, I poked holes in the bottom and top of my linen every 1″, about 1/4″ to 3/8″ from the edge of the fabric. You want the hole to go through both layers of the linen (remember, you folded and pressed the edge in step 2).

6. Using the same buttonhole thread, I “laced” my linen to the top and bottom of the stretcher bars by putting my needle through the holes I made in step 5 and around the bars. Be careful to use enough thread (or string, if you prefer) so you don’t run out halfway through a side. Typically I measure five times the length of my stretcher bar to have enough thread to lace up one side. When lacing, try to keep the fabric perpendicular to the bar. Do not tighten yet. Tie off into a slipknot when done.

Lacing the linen to the stretcher bars.

7. After I secured all sides, I made sure that my fabric was taut but not tight. You should have it just taut enough so there are no wrinkles. To do this, I tightened my laces a little bit. It’s important that your linen not be too tight at this stage.

8. Now I prepared my silk. I cut it the same size as the visible linen on my frame, then folded in the edges by one 1/2″ and ironed flat carefully. It’s important to also cut your silk on the grain as straight as possible. Mismatched grains will result in funny wrinkles and twists.

9. I laid my prepared silk on the linen backing on my frame and pinned it in place at the edges, starting with center pins in the top, bottom, left, and right, then added more pins in the corners and other empty places until the fabric was reasonably smooth. You won’t get it perfect.

10. Using cotton or linen thread (not silk), I stitched my silk to my linen backing using the herringbone stitch, removing pins as I went. Why not silk thread? Silk is too strong and could cut through your fabric. It’s very important to use the herringbone stitch here because you want your silk to stretch with your linen when you tighten it in the next step. I also recommend you start your stitches in the middle of each side and work out from there.

Herribone stitches securing my silk to the backing fabric

11. Once my silk was stitched onto the linen backing and looking much smoother than it did with simple pins, it was time to tighten my frame. To do this, I set my frame on the floor and pulled up on each side until I could get my pegs into another hole in the stretcher bars. I should note that I only needed to tighten it just one hole — the silk stretched taut with only a little tension.

12. I adjusted my lacing on the top and bottom to smooth out the surface.

My silk is beautifully taut and smooth, ready to embroider!

And that’s it. My fabrics are now “framed up” and ready for embroidery. In all, it took about 4 hours to dress the frame, but I had a very large frame and the added work of the silk. That’s a lot of time, but if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.

Notes:

For my project I will embroider through both layers, but it is possible to trim out the linen behind the top fabric if you wish — just be sure you don’t remove more than 1/4-1/2″ from your stitches to ensure the tension remains.

The fabrics may loosen over time — if this happens, tighten the laces.

Most people will lay the frame flat when embroidery with it. If this becomes cumbersome, try setting the frame on a pair of trestle legs (like shown in the woodcut at the top of my blog post) or saw horses, or rest the back of the frame on a chair placed on top of a table.

Share this:

After many experimental haube (coif) mock-ups, talking it through with Lady Antoinette, and feedback from the GermanRenCostume Yahoo Group (especially from Katherine), I have a preliminary pattern for the goldhaube:

The haube band would be sewn to the straight side of the haube itself, which would start at the top of the head (a bit back from the hairline) and tie at the bottom back of the head. The rounded part of the haube would be gathered (or smocked?).

The under band would go across the top of the head at the hairline and tie at the bottom back of the head. It goes on the head first, then the haube goes over it, covering the top and back of the head.

And the reason for the grain line is that I found that cutting the haube on the bias allowed the material to stretch over the braids on the sides of the heads in a more fluid manner. It would also explain why I see pearls applied at 45° angles to the line of the haube — they would be along the warp and weft lines of the fabric then.